The Prophecy of Stella Minor
by Luna Lemming
Summary: (Chapter 2 updated-extra scene, if you read it already) Please go easy on us as this is our first story. It's about a girl who moves to England from Australia and *just happens* to be in Harry's year. She has a secret, though. Have fun!
1. Chapter One-Melbourne

_The Prophecy of Stella Minor_   
  
By Luna and Lemming   
  
  
Luna galloped through the dark forest. She felt all the stress that had built up during the day flow out of her as if she were being drained. Tomorrow, her life would change forever.   
  
As she began to grow tired, she stopped at a pool of cool water to take a drink. While she sipped, she gazed at her reflection. Her eyes were shining--the run had been good for her. Her silver coat and her fair, shaggy mane were damp with sweat. She had not run in a long time.   
  
Suddenly, there was a rustling in the brush. The sound disrupted the peace of the forest and startled Luna. She was on her guard--if they were hunters, she would be ready for them. Then, she relaxed. It was only a family of rabbits who had come to the pool for a drink. _Calm down_, she told herself. _You're way too paranoid._   
  
She nodded at the family by way of evening greeting and was on her way. It was late, and her mother would be worried. It was time for the unicorn to go home.   
  


*** 

  
  
Stella Minor woke up grumpy and tired. As she stretched, she reminded herself that in a few hours, she would be in England, settling into her new home and getting ready for her first day at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had heard great things about the school, but nothing could possibly replace the school where all her friends were, the school her father's family had attended for generations. Nothing could replace being with her sister, who had decided to stay in Australia. It was out of her hands, though. Her mother wanted to return to England, the place where she had grown up, and Stella did not blame her.   
  
Stella's things were packed and ready to go. The Melbourne Knight Bus was scheduled to arrive in an hour's time.   
  
Stella stumbled rather blindly about her room, collecting the clothes she had laid out the night before. She was not a morning person. She gently nudged Ice and Coal, her two kittens, and placed a saucer of fresh milk on her desk. They did not look pleased that she had disassembled her room. "I know how you feel," she said.   
  
After a quick shower, Stella padded downstairs to the kitchen. Her sister, Quinn, was already there, getting ready for work. She was pouring herself coffee when Stella entered.   
  
"You're up early," Quinn remarked as Stella slumped into a chair.   
  
"Well, I am leaving in a half an hour," Stella yawned.   
  
"It doesn't seem natural for you to be up before 11 o'clock is all," Quinn said, noting that Stella's silvery hair was quite disheveled. "You usually sleep so--oh!"   
  
Stella, overcome with tiredness, had fallen face forward into her oatmeal.   
  
Quinn laughed. "Maybe you'd better try to get to sleep earlier from now on."   
  
A half an hour later, Stella and Quinn had put aside their sisterly differences.   
  
"I'll miss you," Quinn whispered as they hugged.   
  
"I'll write you every single day, I promise!" Stella assured her. She was determined not to cry.   
  
Their mother stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Stella's shoulder. It was time to board the Knight Bus.   
  


***


	2. Chapter Two-London

_NOTE: Sorry guys. In all the excitement, I keep forgetting to add the "html" tag at the top. Heh. I'll have to remind myself to do that next time...   
Love, Sophia (Luna)_   
  
  
Chapter Two: _London_   
  
  
Stella Minor stepped off the Knight Bus and came face to face with her new home.   
  
"What do you think?" Her mother had come up behind her. "It's the house I grew up in."   
  
Before Stella could think of something to say, a pale elderly man with jet-black hair appeared behind the screen door.   
  
"Margaret? Is that you?" The old man opened the door with a smile. "I haven't seen you in so long! Is this Quinn?" He gestured towards Stella. Stella blushed.   
  
"No, this one is Stella, Papa," Stella's mother said as she hugged her father. "She takes after her grandmother," she added with a meaningful look.   
  
Stella was confused. "What do you mean?"   
  
Stella's mother paused. Finally, she said, "You look exactly like her, love." She gestured for backup. "Doesn't she, Papa?"   
  
The old man was quicker. "She does--like an angel." He pulled Stella into a tight hug. Despite the fact that she knew he was hiding something coupled with the fact that she had never met him, Stella felt that they would be friends.   
  
Before Stella could press further, her grandpa said, "Where _is_ Quinn?"   
  
Her mother took that as an opportunity to change the subject and Stella felt herself pulled into the kitchen. She was not fooled by their act, but she knew she would have to wait to find out. Perhaps she'd grill them after dinner when they were tired and less alert.   
  
* * *   
  
Harry Potter woke up with a start. He had dreamt that he was back at Hogwarts. But, as he reminded himself grimly, it would be a week before his dream came true.   
  
Although it was three in the morning, Harry was not tired. He got up and dressed silently, knowing he would be dead if he dared wake up the Dursleys during their peaceful slumber. It hadn't been a peaceful slumber for him, though, what with Dudley's constant snoring next door.   
  
Harry went to his wardrobe mirror and tried to tidy his hair a bit. He knew it would not work before he started, but he felt that it was worth a try.   
  
He pressed his bangs down over his thin, lightning-shaped scar, trying to conceal it. He was starting to loathe the prospect of going outside and being started at by wizards and muggles alike because of it. Wizards stared because the scar was a symbol of his surviving the curse of Lord Voldemort. Muggles stared because, well, he had a bolt of lightning on his forehead.   
  
As Harry started a Potions essay, the one he had put off doing for the entire summer, his thoughts drifted back to his dream. He realized, with some confusion, that there had been a unicorn in it. Harry reluctantly remembered the first time he had seen one. It had been his first year at Hogwarts and he had been serving detention with Draco Malfoy in the Forbidden Forest. The unicorn had been dead; it was the most beautiful yet horrifying thing Harry had ever seen. Now Harry was thinking about two things he did not want to think about: the dead unicorn (whose blood Lord Voldemort's assistant had been drinking) and Malfoy. But, Harry reminded himself with a chuckle, Malfoy had run off screaming like there was no tomorrow at the sight of it.   
  
Harry checked his calendar. He crossed off another day; there were only six more until September the first and four more until he could leave the Dursley's for Diagon Alley.   
  
* * *   
  
Stella sat back in her chair. Dinner had been excellent; now she knew where her mother had become such a great cook.   
  
She, her mother and her grandfather had made plans to go to an all-magic street called Daigon Alley tomorrow to pick up her school things.   
  
Stella had a wand, but all her other things had to be new. She couldn't wear her Maroon Melbourne Academy of Magic robes at Hogwarts, and even the books Hogwarts used were different from the ones at MAM.   
  
Her grandfather had also promised to get her a "Welcome to England" present, and Stella was hoping for a new broomstick. She had inherited her father's old Swiftstick, and she felt bad about giving up Dad's old broom, but the Swiftstick got slower as it went higher up the air. She couldn't completely get rid of it though. It had been signed by all seven members of the Woollongong Warriors when they won Quidditch Australia, the largest yearly Quidditch event on the continent, four years ago.   
  
When Mother and Grandfather paused in their discussion of quick chicken recipies, Stella took advantage of the opportunity to interrupt:   
  
"All right then," she said, looking at them. "What is it that I have in common with Grandma exactly, and why is it so important that you hide it from me?"   
  
* * * 


	3. Chapter Three-Loneliness

Chapter Three: _Loneliness_   
  
  
Stella's mother and grandfather were not prepared.   
  
"Er...your grandmother?" Stella's mother had jerked upright from her leaned-back position in her comfortable chair.   
  
Her grandfather's expression turned almost instantly from merry and content to grim and rather nervous. He seemed not to want to say anything without Mother's consent.   
  
"And don't lie to me," Stella reminded them. "I know something's going on."   
  
Mother and Grandfather looked at each other. After a few moments' hesitation, Mother sighed.   
  
"Alright," she said. "You win."   
  
Stella did not speak, but waited patiently.   
  
"I didn't want to tell you this till you were a bit older, mind," Mother said, irritated. "I shouldn't have slipped like that earlier on."   
  
Grandpa took over. "Don't think for a second that we were conspiring against you," he began. Seeing that Stella looked unconvinced, he added, "We wanted to keep this from you for your own safety and well being."   
  
"Right then," Stella's mother paused,"It's about your transformations."   
  


* * *

  
  
Hermione Granger climbed up the stairs to her room after dinner. It would be less than a week until she was back at Hogwarts. She had finished all her homework in the first week of vacation, so she had nothing left to do. But her luck would soon change.   
As she sat down at her desk an owl flew through her window.   
  
"Hedwig! Hi!"   
  
After Hedwig nipped her finger affectionately, Hermione untied the piece of parchment from Harry's owl's leg and gave her owl a snack. She read this:   
  
_Dear Hermione,   
Hi! I hope you feed Hedwig plenty while she's there. The Dursleys have not been feeding us enough.   
  
I'm completely lost on that potions essay. Did you know the Slytherins only have to write three feet of parchment? That's two less than us.   
Anyway, I just needed to make sure Hedwig was being fed. I'll see you in Daigon Alley in a few days. Thanks for the Magical Pranks book! I never would have thought that you would encourage that kind of of thing. I sent Ron one to use on Fred and George.   
Harry _   
  
Hermione smiled as she read the last sentence. Harry and Ron were great, but sometimes Hermione wished she had some female friends. Lavander & Parvati didn't count, even though she had shared a room with them for the last four years. They were way too annoying.   
  
Oh well. There wasn't any point in being dissatisfied when she already had two great friends...   
  


* * *

  
  
Stella looked, wide-eyed, at Mother and Grandfather.   
  
"How come you never told me this before?" her voice broke.   
  
Mother tried to hug her, but she pushed her away.   
  
"I need to go and think about all this," she said as she fastened the clasp of her cloak.   
  
Grandfather rose in protest, but Stella was out the door within ten seconds. He looked at Mother.   
  
"She's never been here before!" he said. "What if she gets lost?"   
  
But Mother did not share the same concern.   
  
"She won't," she almost whispered as she gazed at the spot where her daughter had sat just moments before, an expression of love and admiration on her face. "She never does."   
  
"But will she come back?" Grandfather was still standing, ready to do anything at Mother's word.   
  
Mother nodded and said confidently, "She just needs to be alone for a while. She'll be back in bed tomorrow morning." She sighed and rose. Together, they began to clean up.   
  


* * *

  
  
Once she was several houses down from her grandfather's house, Stella stopped to rest. She hadn't stopped running for ten minutes. She looked around. Where could she transform without being seen?   
  
As she ran, she longed for her father. He had always helped her through her transformations. Had he been here, she knew she would not have had to worry. She would not have had to be alone.   
  
But Stella pushed these thoughts from her as she spotted a nearby park. She ran as fast as she could. She couldn't, after all, transform in the middle of the street. In the park, she could at least hide amongst some trees. She was still several yards away from the park entrance before she felt her body lurch. She would transform soon.   
  
_Damn,_ she thought. _I wish I had control over this..._   
  
But Stella knew this was impossible. She was transforming in the middle of the street, and she had no control over it.   
  
Finally, half transformed, she was able to enter the park. She found clusters of trees quickly and crawled amongst them. Within minutes, she was fully transformed.   
  
A guard had heard the ruckus that she had made and was investigating. Lucky for him, he stopped and gave up a few feet from where she was. Had he pressed further, he would have seen something that would have boggled his mind. For hidden in the trees was Luna the unicorn. 


	4. Chapter Four-Unicorn

Chapter Four: _Unicorn_   
  
  
When Luna was sure that the guard had gone, she could breathe easily again. She needed time to think about what she had just been told without worrying about being caught.   
  
_My grandmother was like me._ She said this over and over in her head, hoping it would sink in and make sense if she repeated it. _My grandmother was an Animagus._   
  
Of course, Luna was not an Animagus. She did not have control over her transformations. As she bitterly brooded over the unfairness of this, she heard a rustle. At first, she was nervous, but then she felt herself turning back to Stella. It was a good thing, too, or else the boy who walked into the clearing just then would have been unpleasantly surprised.   
  
He was surprised, though. Evidently, he hadn't been expecting anyone else to be here.   
  
"Hullo," Stella ventured, rather awkwardly.   
  
The boy, however, seemed more self-assured. He also seemed to feel that politeness was suited for lesser mortals, as he said,   
  
"Stupid muggle. Beat it! This is my spot."   
  
Stella regained her powers of speech. "Who're you calling a muggle?" she asked indignantly. "And I do believe this is a public park. I have every right to be here."   
  
The boy went on as if he had not heard the last part. "Nice accent. You don't even know what a muggle is, of course," he said. "Don't they teach you anything at those Australian schools?"   
  
Stella stood up. "A muggle is a human-being who lacks magical powers." She went on despite the look of surprise on his face (which, she noticed, was rather handsome). "I am neither a muggle nor a human being."   
  
"What? What are you, then?"   
  
Stella had not meant to do more than tell the insolent boy off. "Nothing," she muttered. "Nevermind that last bit."   
  
She tried to shove past him.   
  
"Wait," he said, blocking her way. She looked up at him, annoyed, and looked at him for the first time. The boy was not just handsome, but he had the same pale skin and silvery hair that she did, only more blonde.   
  
"Sit down." He motioned towards a bench. "Tell me about yourself. Do you live in England? I don't recall you being in school..."   
  
Stella, as well as being flattered by his interest in her, was to weary to argue and allowed herself to be guided to the bench.   
  
He repeated his question. "Do you go to Hogwarts? I haven't seen you. I'm sure I would remember if I did," he added.   
  
Stella, choosing to ignore the last bit, said, "Actually, I'm starting at Hogwarts this term. I just moved to London from Melbourne in Australia. I used to attend MAM."   
  
"M-A-what?" he said, confused.   
  
"Oh," she said. "It stands for the Melbourne Academy of Magic. It's the best wizarding school in Australia," she added with pride.   
  
He put on his snobbish face again, the face from which he had temporarily taken a rest. "Well, if you're going to Hogwarts, you'd better hope to get into Slytherin. It's the only house worth being in.   
  
"I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be _that_ bad, but Hufflepuff is for idiots and Gryffindor is for idiots who suffer from the delusion that they're heroes. By the way, I'm Draco Malfoy, nice to meet you. I come from one of the most illustrious wizarding families in Britain. Who're you?"   
  
Stella merely goggled at him, baffled. She had never spoken to someone this concieted in her entire life.   
  
"Er...Stella Minor..." she managed to say.   
  
As though he had not even heard this, Draco Malfoy continued, "My father, Lucius Malfoy (you've heard of him, no doubt) practically runs the Ministry of Magic. He's really important. Call me Draco."   
  
_She's really pretty,_ though Draco. _I wonder if she'd go out with me._   
  
_I'd never go out with him,_ Stella thought. _But he is really hot. And concieted. And hot. And a jerk...Right, this stops now._   
  
"Well, erm, _Draco,_ it was a pleasure meeting you. I really ought to be getting home, though." It was past midnight and she wanted to get some sleep.   
  
As she walked away, Draco, looking slightly put out, called, "I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express, then."   
  
But Stella and Draco would be seeing each other much sooner.   
  


* * *

  
  
Ronald Weasley woke up feeling refreshed. The orange posters which graced his walls always seemed to have that waking-up affect on him. He got up and looked at the Chudley Cannons' motto which always seemed to help him face the day: "Let's all just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best." The Cannons were doing remarkable well this year--twelfth in the league rather than their usual thirteen.   
  
As Ron took a shower, he remembered a dream he had had a few nights ago. His best friend (and the girl he secretly had a crush on), Hermione Granger, had been lying on the beach in a revealing bikini. When she saw him walking towards her, she got up and ran to meet him. She started kissing him. Then, she pulled away, and said that there was something she had to tell him. But he had woken up.   
  
_That'll never happen,_ he thought regretfully. _For two reasons: A) she likes Harry Potter and B) Hermione wouldn't be caught dead in a bikini...Oh well._   
  
Ron got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast, greeting the various members of his family as he went. As he passed his sister Ginny's room, he saw through the crack in her door that she was gazing at a picture of Harry Potter that had lipstick marks all over it. Since the photograph moved, as did all pictures in the wizarding world, Harry had been trying to dodge the kiss marks by squeezing into a far corner of the frame.   
  
"Ick. I did _not_ need to see that."   
  
"What? What happened?" asked his brother, Fred, as he walked out of his room, closing the door behind him. Judging by the bangs and whistles that Ron heard during the short period in which the door was open, George was still within, working on whatever the latest of the twins' inventions was.   
  
"Oh--oh, nothing," Ron said. However disgusted he was, he didn't want to relate what he'd seen to Fred, who would surely make Ginny's life miserable due to the evil grin that was forming on his face.   
  
Ron swept past a disgruntled Fred and down the stairs that led to the first level. Upon reaching the kitchen, he was promptly ignored by his mother and father, who were apparently distressed about something.   
  
He caught snatches of their conversation:   
  
"Where do you suppose they got all that money?" his mother, Molly, was asking.   
  
"Maybe Ludo finally paid them back..." his father, Arthur, said in a hushed tone.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Oh...erm...Ludo borrowed some money off them at the Cup last summer..."   
  
Ron could tell that his mother wasn't buying it. "I see. Well in any case, it's very suspicious..."   
  
Ron interjected. "At least I got some new dressrobes out of it. Those old ones were awful, no offense, Mum."   
  
His parents had not heard him enter and jumped.   
  
"Good morning, Ron." Mr. Weasley smiled weakly at him. "Didn't...erm...hear you come in. Would you like a piece of toast?"   
  


* * *

  
  
Stella couldn't believe her eyes. Back in Melbourne, the magic shops had been scattered all over town amongst the muggle shops. They simply couldn't be seen by them. But she had never seen an entire alley with wizards walking around in the open, free to do what they wanted.   
  
She wanted to go to the shop called Quality Quidditch Supplies, but Mother steered her instead towards Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, saying school things first, treats later.   
  
This didn't upset Stella very much as she was very interested in how English wizards differed from Australians. After her school shopping was done, Stella found herself in front of Ollivander's Wands.   
  
"Grandfather, I don't need a wand," she said. "Remember? I've got one already." The quarrel of the night before had been put aside for the time being, and she was being civil to them, but still managed to give them the cold shoulder.   
  
"Yes, I remember. But this Ollivander is an old friend of mine," he said. "We were at Hogwarts together. Besides, I figured we could have your wand checked out for fun. See what's in it."   
  
Mr. Ollivander was a spooky old man, but Stella was not scared of him; rather, she felt oddly at home with him. He smiled when he caught sight of Grandfather.   
  
"David, you old scallywag! Still dying your hair, I see!"   
  
"I do not, old man. I've never had a gray hair in my life. You, on the other hand, don't have any left--"   
  
They laughed and hugged each other. Then, Mr. Ollivander noticed Stella and her mother.   
  
"Hello, Margaret. You're looking lovlier than ever," he said, embracing her. "This must be your daughter." He regarded Stella fondly. "Is she looking for a wand, then? Looks a bit old for it, doesn't she?"   
  
"Oh, I don't need a wand, I've got one," Stella said, surprised at her own boldness in the face of a strange old man. "See?" She handed it to him.   
  
Then Mr. Ollivander did something she did not expect. He almost began jumping with excitement, he looked so happy.   
  
"This is a _very_ interesting wand," he said, examining it gleefully. "Very interesting indeed. You have a very strong connection to it."   
  
"What?" asked Stella, interested in spite of her attempts to act unhappy in front of her mother and grandfather. "How's that?"   
  
The old man continued eagerly, "It seems to have a part of you in it. Hang on..." he said, his smile fading somewhat, "...This can't be possible! How could part of you be in it? You're not a unicorn!" He glared at her. "You're not even a tree!" 


End file.
